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“There is no spoon…”

Leica M8, Voigtlander 75mm, ISO 320, f/10, 1/125

Leica M8, Voigtlander 75mm, ISO 320, f/10, 1/125

We are at the tail-end of our traditional January thaw and I have been taking advantage of the sunlight and warmer days, exposing a lot of film and driving around taking pictures of barns, specifically the worn and weathered wood and metal fittings that adorn them.  In the past few years many structures have undergone extensive renovations and finding the older, more run-down buildings is becoming difficult.  I have had some success, however, and I will be bringing at least 15 sheets of negatives back to Paros for the spring.  These are all close-up images and, I suppose, could be filed under ‘abstract work’.  I think of them as realist photography and that the symbolic nature of the aging materials is on parallel with the concept of ‘memento mori‘.   Granted, there are no skulls or obvious symbols of mortality in my photos, but I feel that the natural changes of the constructive elements follow a similar philosophical thread.

I have fallen in love with the Voigtlander 75mm lens that I am using on my Leica M8.  It is fast, crisp and the compression of the image is a a relief after the relative wide-angles of the 35 and 50mm lenses in my bag.  It is, for the moment, my lens of choice.  I am enjoying employing shorter focal lengths and it is ideal for hyper-focusing.  The camera I have ben using for the MF work has been a Rolleicord belonging to my friend Carol Yeager.  I will return it next week before I depart for Greece.  I like this little gem.  It is the consumer model of its more technical Rolleiflex big brother.  The glass is clear, bright and, once again, I am enjoying its shorter focal length abilities.  Thank you Carol.

I was at a meeting of the 14th Colony Arts Group the other day and chatted with another artist in regards to emerging talent, foundational work and all that.  I kept it simple and did not get too worked up, but something she said bothered me.  I was speaking about how important I felt it was for artists/craftspeople/skilled artisans to have a firm foundation from which to progress. She said she wasn’t so sure of that and that many young people are “doing interesting things.”  I am sure they are.  She reminded me of someone who stresses the ‘thinking outside the box’ mentality.  I promised to get back to this in the January 3rd blog entry, and so I will.  For me, it is simple:

A fundamental understanding of any set of skills or abilities is necessary to create anything of real artistic beauty and value.  Every craftsperson I know (read: artist, bricklayer, poet, sailor) has a strong work ethic, devotion to the craft and a willingness to return to that foundation as an anchor before setting off on their journey.  They have also began their journeys as beginners.  To assume that one can ‘think outside the box’  a priori is, I feel, false.  This is the proof:  one cannot think outside the box successfully unless one is knowledgable of its contents.  Therefore, fundamentals, foundational experience and education are essential.   After that, one can and, I hope, will create whatever he or she wishes.

I cooked professionally for many years.  I did not start off at the top or somewhere in the middle.  I began as a dishwasher and worked my way up.  Now I am a photographer practicing my skills and craft.  When I began this stage of my journey I could not roll a piece of film on a reel.  Now I compute complex mathematical formulae based on time, temperature, chemistry and film stock when I work in the darkroom.  I do this in my head and I do it almost without thinking. This did not happen overnight.  Because of practice and education my axis of creativity is greater than it was 10, or even 3, years ago.  The odd feeling is that the more I try to ‘think outside the box’,  the roomier I find ‘the box’ to be.  I am learning that thinking ‘outside the box’ is impossible.  There is no box.  There is no spoon.  (Sorry if there is a preceding ad.  Good clip, though.)

JDCM

 

 

With a little help from my friends….

Ancramdale, New York  December 22, 2012 07:45hrs

Ancramdale, New York December 22, 2012 07:45hrs

I have found through trial (many trials) and error (many errors) that I can accomplish very little in life without the assistance of those around me.  Whether it is the gentle and loving care for my mother, my continuing work at the Aegean Center or any spiritual journey I may undertake, I cannot do it alone, nor do I really want to anymore.  Yes, there are times when we all need a little solitude for reflection and meditation, but overall I long to embrace the company of my fellows, whomever they may be.

I return to Greece in just over a month.  Christmas will come and go and the New Year will ring its bells and I will, I hope, have some work to show for the time I have spent here.  I am opening up my darkroom and am about shooting film (both 35mm and MF) as well as recording some digital images.  Besides my Leica M8 I have resuscitated my old Canon Digital Rebel, the first decent digital SLR I used.  It needed a new battery so I picked one up from Adorama.  I hope to use it as a point-and-shoot while I am here, reserving the Leica for more contemplative images.  The MF film work is up in the air.  Maybe I’ll work on some more short depth-of-field images and bring the negatives back to Paros.  The 35mm film is being used in a really old Canon AE-1 with a 50mm lens.  In both cases I am shooting Kodak Tri-X 400.  If I am industrious I hope to begin developing by the end of this week and printing by 2013.  2013!  Imagine that…A lot of water has flowed under the bridge, over the dam and out to sea since I started this blog.  It seems like a lifetime ago that I switched gears and turned onto this road, a journey that fills me with endless gratitude and wonder.

It snowed early this morning before I awoke.  The weather outside is grey and leaden, a wintry wind is reminding me that all things must pass and, as they do, new opportunities for knowledge and growth appear on the horizon.  In some cases it is better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all and I have to believe that there is something better for me down the road.  As a friend and I were remarking this morning…one door closes, another door opens.  Life is a series of hallways and corridors.  Take a risk and turn the knob.

 My never-ending thanks to Kit Latham for all of his wonderful support in the much needed update of this blog space.  You will notice that the old images of the Bosnian Roma are gone, replaced with more current and relevant images from my portfolios.  To have them off the site is a great relief to me.  They represent a time of my life that has passed.  I have also cleaned out much of my gallery site, letting go of a tired and used vision for something a little more current.  In a few days there will be an even larger shift.  Siga-siga, as we say on Paros.

JDCM

American return…

My flight from Vienna to NY/JFK was uneventful.  I actually slept little which is not normal for me, so maybe that’s an event.  When I returned to Ancramdale I was able to stay awake until about 11PM and then crawled into bed and slept soundly until around 5:15AM.  That will change in a week or so but right now I am awake in this quiet early-morning house, my mother and a caregiver downstairs asleep.  The eastern sky is just beginning to grow pale…almost 7AM.

It has been just over 4 months since I last saw my mother, and vice-a-versa.  This is, I think,  compounded her everyday confusion by making her suddenly aware that I have been gone and that I have returned.  There were also moments of “who is your mother?” last night while we watched Jeopardy, questions which are unnerving for me, to say the least.  Like so many people in her life who have dropped off of her social map, I am walking on the fringes of her memory.   I put a positive face on it though and we changed the subject a little, easing her discomfort.  I hope that within the next few days she will have forgotten I went anywhere and have been here all the time.  That would be a relief for both of us.

My time in Vienna was lovely, although the weather was a bit gloomy at times.  Still, it makes for good museum weather and I took advantage of that.  As I stated earlier the Albertina Museum and Durer exhibit were stunning, some of the works not having been displayed for over 50 years.  I saw the ‘Triumphal Procession’ (among many other pieces) in all of its 54 meter glory, the other 50 meters being lost to history.  I was planning on going to see ‘The Third Man’ that night at the Burg Kino Theater, but by 9:30PM I still had over an hour to wait and I suddenly felt the need to just relax and not push the plan.  So I called it an early night and hit the rack.  I have had the Vienna/Third Man experience twice already.  I could skip it this time.  

The next day was drizzly and cold and I trudged over to the Kunst Historiches Museum for a day of Great Masters and palatial Hapsburg splendor.  I was not disappointed.  I made a wise decision and rented one of the audio guides.  Even though I already knew much of what the guide told me, it slowed down my journey through the building thus providing a more enjoyable experience.  It is safe to assume that there were whole rooms devoted to Rubens, Breugal, Velasquez and others.  Truly the booty from one of the most powerful and wide-reaching empires in world history.  From Vienna, the Hapsburgs directly controlled all of Europe, except for England, Russia and parts of the southern Balkans.  Massive power and wealth.  The French Louis’ were common landowners compared to what became the Dual Monarchy of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.  In any case, they could afford to either buy it all since everyone worked for them.  Here is a list of just some of their employees, all of whom I was able to view last Saturday:  Titian, Tintoretto, Velasquez, Durer, Holbein, Rubens (2 rooms!), Altdorfer, Rembrandt, Van Dyck, and Bruegel.  That is the Top Ten.  There were whole salons of painters with whom I was not familiar.  

The next day I had a great time with my friend Mathias and his family.  I walked in the park and had lunch with them and photographed the three of them with their young son, Anton.  It was such a nice time.  Then I went to the Schloss Belvedere to see the very large Klimt show. Hmmm…After the previous day, Klimt fell flat for me.  What was gently impressive, however, was the exhibit upstairs of the late 19th c. painter Erik Jakob Schindler.  I loved the work and I ended up purchasing a small book.  

So Vienna was a success:  good food, good friends, good art and once again, worth the trip–more than just a stop-over on my way back to the US from Greece.  I think I will try to make it back there this spring for a few days.  

JDCM

Note:  for some reason I cannot add links with the text.  You’ll have to investigate stuff on your own…

Post time…Vienna…

I haven’t posted in quite a while.  I’ll give the short-story to catch up and then expound a bit…

The student exhibition for the Fall 2012 Aegean Center was lovely.  The students worked hard, expressed their individual talents and it showed.  That’s all I have to say really, except well done to all!  I am looking forward to the spring session and all that it may hold.  Challenges, rewards, hard work, hikes, frustrations and solutions.  It all makes up the rich pageant that is the Aegean Center for the Fine Arts.

I traveled to Athens and stayed there for two days.  While I was there I was able to see an exhibit from the photographer Helmut Newton.  I was surprised.  I have seen much of his work over the years, in books mostly, so to see full-sized prints was stunning.  There was also a movie, made by his wife of almost 50 years, June Newton.  It portrayed a man severely maligned by the press and the photo-world as being a pervert and a weirdo.  The truth was eye-opening.  He worked hard, used incredible skill with no trickery and produced some of the more iconic images in fashion I have ever seen.  His CV reads like a who’s-who of the fashion world: Vogue, Elle, Yves St. Laurent…the list goes on.  His commentary was clear and the filmed interactions with his models proved beyond a doubt the level of respect for their professionalism and grace.  At one point he said that his goal was to make a fashion shoot not look like a fashion shoot, but rather something from a movie.  He also talked about the gear he uses, i.e. not much: a Hasselblad 500 and a Polaroid for the light tests.  He switched to a basic canon EOS digital later on his career for the lighting tests.  Very few exterior lights and almost no studios that looked like studios.  His eye captured the realities behind the shoot as well as the focus.   I left the show feeling like it was a good two hours spent in the afternoon. The next day I flew to Vienna and was greeted by the lights of a city in Christmas season and the weather to match.  It’s cold here, folks.  Last night it went down to 18*F.  Today was cloudy and chilly and snow is predicted for tomorrow night.

I visited the Albertina Museum today to see the Albrecht Durer show.  It was a huge event focusing on his work during the reign of Emperor Maximilian I.  Many of the works mentioned in the Wiki article were on display for the first time in decades.   I have to leave descriptions of those for the next post since I will include many links.

Tonight I dine on tafelspitz and then walk down to the Burg Kino Theater and watch ‘The Third man’.

JDCM

Down to the wire and a Five Year Plan…

Polly Jo McCulloch Masters, circa 2012

The term winds down, a spring relaxing, but ironically the ticktock increases for the final push.  The student exhibition is this weekend, preceded by readings and vocal performances.  I am too tired to go into the details, but it is an exhilarating time for many and stressful for the rest.  I have all but finished matting my photographs and only have to wait the final call for how many I need to matte for hanging.  The 11 pieces I worked on today will be in the ‘flip file’.  They are simply matted and wrapped in protective plastic to keep the fingerprints of my adoring fans on the exterior instead of marring the precious silver emulsion inside.

On a more personal note..I returned back to my flat Thursday evening to the sound of my mobile phone chirping, meaning I had missed a call.  When I checked, it had been my sister in Maine.  This unrolled a laundry list of stressful thoughts about my mother.  Was this ‘the call’?   As I called her back the thought came into my head “Mom has had a stroke…” and I wasn’t far off.  It was either a stroke or a TIA, but the good news was that she was well, in the hospital and had almost completely recovered in the short time since the event.  I was told to not worry, go about my day/night and check the next morning.  The caregivers had acted quickly and efficiently, probably saving her life.  So I went back to the darkroom and worked on some final proofs.  As I was slowly agitating my work in the soup I thought back to the summer of 2009 when I first applied to the Aegean Center.  I wrote and submitted an essay about photography, developing film and living as a primary caregiver for an elderly parent.  Here is an excerpt:

“I have tried to hold on to dreams as I wake and am dumbfounded when they disappear in the daylight. But hers are different. They come and go like shadows thrown by the leaves of trees as the sun arcs through the sky and clouds rolls past. But hers are not dreams. They are misfiring synapses and broken electrical connections in her brain that make no sense to me or others, but, to her, are as real as a photographic proof on high-contrast paper.  When her process is done what will the results be?   Once there was a writer, a theater owner, a lover of mysteries, a friend to the down-trodden and a mother who cradled her son on the edge of the pond lest he fall in the water and drown. The woman who gave birth to me, who saved my life, who visited me in the worst of places, is a shade of the agitated image now asleep in the wide bed. The picture is soft but the overall image is even, like there is something wrong with the inner workings of the camera. No amount of re-focusing can fix this and no expert can offer any kind words that will make it right. The light is lovely and soft; it is always magic time. The reality the camera catches is not what I expect. It is more and less at the same time, urging me to follow, yet losing me in the bright haze of a summer afternoon.”

As I stood in the darkroom and gently swirled the Microphen across the silver emulsion I weighed the passage of time and what has transpired since that summer.  Nothing stressful or too alarming for her, thankfully, and looking back I can see that she has wandered a steady but declining plateau while I have progressed in a more upward fashion.  Yes, there have been pitfalls I have avoided and the occasional mess I have stepped in but on the whole it has been a positive 3 1/2 years.  What is to come?  That was a question put forth the other day in class and, truthfully, I have no answer for the Big Question.  I have some goals for the next year, but five years is still too far off to tell…

JDCM

 

Darkroom work and questions…

In the past few weeks I have begun printing some of the images I made last summer during my island hopping following the spring 2012 session here at the Aegean Center.  For the most part, they are photographs of the stone walls that criss-cross the Kyklades landscapes like so many topographical scratches: property lines, terrace farming, some ancient, some new.  The proofs are working out fine, but I have begun to grow uneasy.  I am still coming to terms with the idea of ‘art’ and my photography.  True, I can compose within the format, be it square or rectangular, but am I an artist or am I simply a skilled documentarian?  The same applies to the portrait pieces I am photographing with my 4×5 and then using the scanner to render them into a digital format.  This is not my discussion alone, but one that has been on the table since photography began.  Is a photograph art?

I was told tonight by someone at a cafe that if a photograph ‘moves him’, creates an emotional response, then it is art.  I’ll buy that.  So what kind of emotional response is my ‘wall photography’ generating?  Nostalgia, loneliness, sadness…The scenes are desolate, full of ruins and, in some cases, the detritus of man.  Overturned ore carts, rotting and rusting in the harsh Aegean climate; volcanic chunks of stone piled two meters high to create the snake-like patterns running over hills one sees from the aft deck of the Blue Star ferry as they sail from Pireaus south.  There are no people in these images.  There are only the bones of ghosts.

The portrait work, on the other hand, is completely different.  I am trying to capture the essence of the person, or people, in their own environment.  Some are in studios, others at home.   In each case I have been able to catch a glimpse of something that reaffirms the great possibility of life.  The terrace farms may collapse due to misuse over the centuries, but these people will live on through the images I am creating.  I am creating.  I can create.  Perhaps that is as close a definition for ‘art’ as I will ever get.  Art is creation, a recognition of beauty and grace despite the ravages of time.  I can be a creator of something.   I can document with a deft hand, be mindful of the alchemical processes and thus reveal something to the world that I find beautiful.   There is a lazy part of me that wants this feeling to go away.  The realist in me understands that questioning is essential.  Without doubt and self-examination, how can I possibly progress?

JDCM

Serifos, 2012

 

Andiparos, 2012

Seasonal turns in the Cyclades…

In his collection “A Year With Emerson” Richard Grossman envisions the poet and essayist discussing the merits of the simplicity of life with his close friend Henry David Thoreau.  Emerson wrote, “To find the unity in diversity is the role of the seeker of laws.  When we find the unity behind the complex array of nature, we find the inherent simplicity of nature and are at home in it.  We can never be at peace while we exist in a myriad of facts.”

I wrote this entry a few days ago and saved it in ‘drafts’.  I am glad I did.  I had little else to say on that day and surprisingly, not much else to say today.  My energy is stable, not over-the-top.  Tomorrow most of the students are heading out to a week off from the Aegean Center.  Exotic locales, travel plans, etc…Turkey, Copenhagen, islands in Greece, islands of thought and distance.   I think we all need a break.  I am off to the quiet island of Andiparos, adjacent to my current locale and only a 10 minute ferry ride from Paros.  I will have 5 or 6 days there.  I hope to do some reading, take some pictures of stone walls, maybe a little swimming (weather permitting) and generally just hang about.  I’ll be back well before the break ends.

It is very quiet here on Paros.  Tourists are few, visitors to the school are fewer and this weekend we set our clocks back for daylight savings time.  We are a week ahead of America, I think.  Clouds have rolled in and the welcoming rains have been washing the streets clean, rinsing dust from the trees and filling the sky with richly contoured thunderheads.  The rains have been mostly at night, with mixed sunshine during the day. The lightning and thunder has been dramatic, waking me at 3AM,  reminding me to check the open windows in my small flat.  So far no floods.  Tonight I will develop some film and be available for the other students should they need any advice.  It seems a simple, quiet life I have stumbled upon, a veneer for a complex interior.  Too complex to actually comment upon.  I wouldn’t know what to say.  I will take David Byrne’s advice, “When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed.”

JDCM

Some Emerson from an autumnal island…

The weather here on Paros has been a blessing.  It has felt like summer in early October and although the students at the Aegean Center are working hard and discovering the rhythms of the school, they have also enjoyed the sun, swimming and island life.  The heat, however, has forced those of us in the darkroom to take measures for chilling our chemistry.  This is not a problem, but it does require an extra step or two if one wishes to develop film properly.  We will begin printing next week and by that time the ambient temperature should have cooled and our lives will be less complex.  The breeze moving down the streets and alleys this evening is more crisp and there was a heavy dew this morning.  We are supposed to have some rain next week which will slowly turn the amber and silver-grey hills around the bay light green.  I enjoy the change of seasons and this time of year I am reminded that Paros, and all of Greece, has distinct times of year beyond the sun-drenched blue and white stereotype of tourist advertising.

red tomatoes in a blue bowl

I realized the other day that I left my collected Emerson paperback in Italy, perhaps in some hotel.  I imagine it slipped from my backpack and under the bed, forgotten in my eagerness to return to Greece.  I hope it ends up on some shelf to be read by a passing traveler.  I do have my  ‘A Year with Emerson”, which will quote for today, October 10.  He wrote about his ideal scenario regarding readers and how he would like to be perceived: “I would have my book read as I have read my favorite books, not with explosion & amazement, a marvel and a rocket, but a friendly & agreeable influence stealing like the scent of a flower or the sight of a new landscape on a traveler.  I neither wish to be hated & defied by such as I startled, nor to be kissed and hugged by the young whose thoughts I stimulate.”

He also wrote,

“Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide
upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There
are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe your critics are
right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some
of the same courage that a soldier needs. Peace has its victories, but it
takes brave men and women to win them.”

Both of these concepts–the idea of the more quiet path, modesty being the philosophy and the understanding that one must always be true to oneself and not falter regardless of outside influences–inspire me to be a better person.  The given fact is, of course, that I am human and will sometimes stumble, sometimes reach for glory or even react in a self-deprecating manner.  Imperfection makes the best and most lofty ideals attainable.

(Tomatoes have nothing to do with this post.  I just liked the picture. Think of it as an interlude.  It is also 4 years old and from New York.  Nothing to do with Greece, Emerson or anything at all, really.)

JDCM

Something caught my eye and holds it still…

Standing outside having coffee on this autumn afternoon I am reminded of the passage of time.  Looking south from here, across the valley of Pistoia and over the hills, I see a landscape that Gentile Da Fabriano could have used for his painting ‘Rest during the flight into Egypt’, the small panel beneath his much more elaborate and ground-breaking altar piece ‘Adoration of the Magi.’  Some art historians consider this small piece, the second of three, to be the first example of a painted landscape.  The rolling hills contain cast shadows, much like those my eyes trace here on the distant foothills of the Apennines.  There are strips of clouds, adding depth to not only Da Fabriano’s pigmented tempera but my own 21st century view.  Far away from Mary and Joseph, a small city sits on a hill, the gravely road winding its way towards their safe haven from Herod’s swords.  I can see a city from where I stand: Pistoia’s duomo and campanile rise up from the more modern town.  Olive groves and fruit trees are illuminated in this clear, crisp sunlight, the wind blowing their leaves, and I imagine the circumstances must have been cold and fraught with peril for the small family, colder still for the elderly Joseph leading them and the small baby held in the arms of a young mother.   The two servants walk behind them, perhaps gathering fruit from the apple trees at the bottom of the hill.  The landscape opens up on each side.  Such perspective and such drama for such a tiny piece of wood and paint.

This piece fills me with such love for humanity.  Every time I see it I am struck by the depth of the color and the size of the panel.  At only 32 x110 cm Da Fabriano has told an entire story.  It portrays such a human condition and the cast of players seem so common: an old man, his young wife, their baby, two assistants and a donkey.  Would we have paid any attention had it not been the Son of God?

JDCM

 

‘Rest during the flight into Egypt’, Gentile Da Fabriano

Venice, Vivaldi, good food and some of my reality…

I have heard some lovely music in the past two nights, mostly Vivaldi, and all performed by the Interpreti Veneziani, the chamber music organization that performs almost every night here in this ancient and mysterious town.  Last night it was a series of four violin concertos and tonight, his well-known ‘The Four Seasons’.  I was able to attend last night’s performance with a friend who is also an expert on the subject and afterwards we compared notes.  I mentioned that I could hear musical references to Renaissance folk music running through Vivaldi’s Baroque style, like small threads of musical memory, and my friend agreed.  He then reminded me that much of the electricity that emanates from Vivaldi’s music can also be seen as a direct link to the Enlightenment, the era in which Vivaldi lived and composed much of his work.  Previous to Vivaldi’s time, the primary source for inspiration in many of life’s venues had been the church.  With the cultural onslaught of the Enlightenment came ideas such as life, liberty and the innate equality of all.  To think of that and then hear ‘Il Quattore Staggione’ tonight made me quite aware that during the composer’s era this piece must have shocked and amazed his audience, as it still does today.

Venice is lovely and I am lucky to be able to spend some time here although I came down with a brutal head cold that simply wiped me out.  I had to miss a tour of San Marco yesterday in favor of bed, fluids and medication but was able to make it to dinner and then the aforementioned concert.  Last night I ate at the restaurant adjacent to my hotel.  I had baccala with polenta and then pan-seared angler fish in a deconstructed puttanesca sauce.  Really nice.  Then the music.  Tonight it was bresaola salad followed by some branzino at a cafe in Campo di San Stefano.  Then more music.

On a more serious note, I have been aware for some time that many people feel that I take life too seriously, don’t smile enough and seem to not be as joyful as some.  For many years I lived a life…No, that’s not correct…I existed on a plane of desperation and pain driven by ego and hubris.  This trajectory brought me in line with situations and circumstances that can simply be described as ‘dark.’  I have played cards many times with Death and by some miracle have survived each hand.  So if my smile seems a bit strained sometimes it is only because I have tasted  much bile in my time.  My demeanor is that of the lucky few.  Contrary to popular belief, those who have courted death and have lived to tell the tale do not wave our hands about in glee nor do we shout at the top of our lungs our pyhrric victories, aping the latest Youtube sensation.  We sit somewhat stunned, grateful and quiet and remember from whence we came.  Life is serious business and should not be treated as a rehearsal.  You will forgive my not always laughing.

JDCM

angler fish with deconstructed puttanesca sauce